Help Me Live
by Hannurdock
Summary: The sequel to Let Me Die. (For Sami, 0nymus, girlfriendofaninja, Paranormal1364, BlingThing Jake, SUPER NINGA WHO,Angela, Kara Kirk, StarryFeathers, yesica hamato, Shamaness1171, McRai thePrinx, DolphinsandBowties, CrazyWorldofMatt, tmntlover2013, Onlymehere, thehappystalkerball, Amanda K. Teals and all the Guests that reviewed Let Me Die.)
1. Donatello

**Help Me Live**

_Prologue_

My name is Donatello.

A couple of hours ago, I realised my brother was planning to commit suicide.

Since then, I have been researching furiously online for the answers I need. I am not a medical professional and I have no training in mental illness, but I am the best chance Raph has got. I only hope my high IQ can work the problem and find a compassionate approach to treating my poor brother. One that implements all the current knowledge and emerging treatments to optimise my chance of success.

Raphael is lying in a drug induced stupor as we all come together as a team to work the problem. I am in charge of medication and counselling. It is the best fit for my personality and skills as I am able to work out the appropriate dose for my brother and then allow him to speak his troubles without judgement. I am the perfect fit to offer analytical advice during his terrible illness.

Master Splinter has taken the route of healing through spiritual awareness. He hopes to introduce Raphael to the astral plane, a place of healing and recuperation. It is also a shared platform so Raphael will allow Splinter to merge with his mind to find the darkness and help him fight the battle ahead.

Leonardo will be delivering daily meditation practices and teaching Raph relaxation of mind through discipline. He is well versed in this already and his strong set of skills in this area will be paramount for Raph's recovery.

As for Mikey… our brave little brother has decided on art therapy. Raph has always had a flair for the artistic and Mikey wants to propel him forward using various methods, from painting to sculpture. It will give Raph something to hold on to, something he has a talent for and will discover self-worth.

This will be a long process and there is no definitive outcome. Raph might bounce back but then he might not. The true outcome of mental illness is chronic sometimes and I must prepare myself for this eventuality. Whatever happens, Raph will have guided support from no on from all of us, each utilising what we are skilled at. I hope that this is enough.

I left the lair with Leonardo shadowing my every move. Travelling quickly to the surface, I heaved at the manhole cover with little finesse, creating a screech that could be heard throughout the block. Instantly, Leo was beside me and his hand covered my trembling one, adding a layer of security to my already frazzled nerves.

"Easy, Don. Let me do it."

Leo pushed the cover aside and helped me out of the drain. He helped us remain unseen as we flitted to a dark alleyway and came to the door I was looking for.

Normally, I would never condone breaking into a pharmacy and rifling through their medicinal stock.

However, under exceptional circumstances, this is exactly what I find myself doing tonight. Breaking in was simple enough. Security was poor. A simple lock-pick got me in through the back door. The alarm system was another matter entirely. Fairly modern and tamper-proof, at least for your average burglar seeking drugs for recreational purposes, it proved a small challenge to overcome.

The pharmacy was well stocked, and as I flashed my torch at the heaps of boxes and tubes, I finally found the drugs I was looking for.

I picked up most of the drug called Fluoxetine, a common medication to treat depression, and a few boxes of Diazepam for good measure. Laying some money on the counter and a brief note of apology, I counted the remaining boxes I was going to leave behind. The last thing I wanted was to run them out if they had an emergency.

Stealthily leaving the store, I made my way over to the manhole cover quickly. Leonardo was waiting for me, his eyes dark and brooding. He indicated for me to go before him and I waited for him to replace the manhole cover and drop quietly to my side.

"Did you get what you needed?" Leo asked in a soft voice.

I jiggled the bag of medication in front of him. "Enough for a year at least. Hopefully, with our help and intervention, we'll be able to wean him off them when he has been fully recovered for more than six months."

"Let's get moving then." Leo took the lead and we walked in silence back to The Lair, splashing down familiar tunnels until we reached our destination.

The lair was eerily quiet. Leo and I made no noise as we entered stealthily. I placed the bag of drugs into my bedroom, somewhere only I could access them, and wandered back into the living area.

Leo was sitting on the couch with Mikey. I walked over to join them and then stopped in remembrance of only a few hours prior. Raphael helplessly sobbing on the couch. Begging for us to let him go. To turn our backs and let him finish the job. The memory made my stomach churn in guilt and horror, and I remained frozen to the spot in terror.

"Are you coming to sit down?" Leo asked gently. I took a deep breath to steady myself and walked over to them. There was a seat between my brothers, and I took it, feeling the tension flooding through me at the thought of my brother. Defeated. Close to death.

"Where's Raphael?" I asked. I heard the edge of panic in my voice and wished I could take it back. I felt my brothers wince beside me, their bodies stiffening suddenly.

"He's with sensei." Mike offered, pointing towards our Master's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and a soft glow from candlelight made my anxiety worse.

"Don't worry. We each have a part to play." Leo rose to his feet and patted me affectionately on the shoulder before going to the kitchen. I heard the kettle being filled, the soft whistle developing as the water slowly boiled. Everything seemed so loud and disturbing.

Leo had officially become our Tea-turtle. Whenever he sought to reassure us, he would begin with a cup of green tea. As he handed around cups of hot beverage to us, we kept an ear strained to try and hear what was being said between Master and Student.

It was going to be a long night.


	2. Master Splinter

Master Splinter

The glow from a single candle bathed the room in a hypnotic glow as Raphael lay before me, his head propped on a pillow. He was lying flat on his belly, arms dangling by his side and his shell looked like a dark mountain on his back.

It wasn't merely the weight of his shell that Raphael was feeling. His mind was clogged with terrible thoughts, all of them dark and brooding.

I had engaged him, still placid because of sedation, into a relaxing meditation that focused completely on his breathing. The sound of his raspy breath constantly on the verge of tears was something terrible to hear but I allowed his essence to fill my thoughts, my brain, my senses.

As a Master of the Spiritual Plane, I had little trouble delving into the thoughts of my sons. Beyond Raphael's howling, tortured thoughts lay a vast abyss. His mind was fragile, and I bolstered his mental energies with strength from my own.

"That is good, Raphael. Concentrate on each breath only. As if all form and substance is gone from the world around you." I patted his shell gently with my paw and ran the extremity over the scars that littered every nook. He had been burned severely in the past on his shell and that part was still slightly blackened. The slices from swords his shell had sustained were healing slowly, like a nail would grow back, slowly forming a new layer of protectiveness that seemed harder and more durable than the first.

"Master Splinter ... can I sit up? This is really uncomfortable." Raphael groaned underneath the weight of his shell. His voice was still raw, and his words caught uncomfortably in his throat.

I placed a hand under Raphael's carapace helping him to clumsily sit up and cross his legs awkwardly. Perhaps Donatello had used too much sedation this time. Raphael was barely capable of lifting an arm and he was relying on me, much to his disgust, to merely get comfortable.

He swatted my paw aside as he caught his balance and I moved back instantly. His abrupt ways did not surprise me. Even when he was a turtle toddler, he would frown upon the simplest acts of kindness. Not towards others of course but it was as if he couldn't bear the thought of someone being kind to him. As if he didn't deserve that.

I could hear his thoughts churning, recoiling from being touched. From being helped.

It did wound me that Raphael would recoil from my touch. He was my son and I only wanted to help him overcome his battles. I let the hurt go, preferring instead to concentrate on Raphael's recovery.

"Are you more comfortable now, Raphael?" I asked.

He nodded slowly; his eyes suddenly pained. "I'm sorry, sensei."

It was nothing more than a slur.

"What have you to be sorry about, my son?" I leaned forward and caught the brightness of his eyes reflected in candlelight. Too bright. Unshed tears were accumulating, and I felt the raw pain touch my heart. My son. My suffering son.

"I ... I ... didn't mean to ... back off. I hurt you." Raphael turned away and a single tear snaked down his right cheek.

"You have never been a tactile turtle, Raphael." I chuckled. "You are not offending me in the slightest. If it makes you more comfortable to back away, then I would rather you do that."

"Where are ... my brothers?" Raphael's head whipped to the closed door and he turned back to look at me with frightened eyes.

"They are safe. Everyone is safe. The Ancient One has visited this evening. He was very concerned about this family and wanted to offer his protection." I gazed at the flickering candlelight.

"The Ancient One was here?" Raphael looked up in surprise. "When? I didn't see him come?"

"You were asleep at the time." I confessed. "He sat with you for a while, talking to you as you slept."

"So that was what that weird dream was all about." Raphael's eyes dawned with sudden realisation. "I was lost in the sewers; I couldn't find the lair or any of you. The Ancient One suddenly appeared in front of me and led me back to the lair. Everyone was sat around watching a movie. I can't remember what it was ... but we were happy."

"Did you feel that happiness, Raphael?" I asked.

"I felt everyone else's happiness." Raphael smiled bitterly. "It was enough."

"Let us breathe together and clear our minds of all distraction." I watched Raphael carefully as he closed his eyes and sighed a little. Out of all my sons, Raphael found this task the most difficult.

During his training over the many years I had always found his lack of meditative prowess a challenge. He didn't really understand the process of emptying the mind and clung to his anger or cynicism as solace.

"Master Splinter..." he was slurring still.

"I am here, my son."

The room was quiet for a while. Raphael was falling asleep, his soft breathing turning into louder snores.

"Master Splinter?" Leonardo was standing at the door with a cup of steaming green tea. "Is Raph asleep?"

"For the moment," I took the cup from my eldest and watched as Leo knelt beside Raphael. He was taut, his muscles tensing.

"Leonardo, please calm yourself. Raphael is safe presently." I took two swift sips of the tea and gazed at Leonardo for a short while. He was hovering beside his brother, plainly unsure of what he should do. "My son, please go fetch some bedding for Raphael to sleep where he is."

Leonardo nodded and rose to his feet. He hurried out of the bedroom and I heard hushed voices as the lair became a flurry of activity.

I smiled to myself as he returned with quilts and pillows, creating a nest around Raphael as he hunched over in sleep. Then, he gently manoeuvred his brother into a foetal position and curled the covers all around him.

"You may leave now, Leonardo. Try and get some rest. All of you must sleep tonight, for tomorrow the battle begins anew."

I remained awake, watching my son sleep in a restless and distressing manner. He would moan and quiver as he dreamed, his hands bunching into fists as he fought monsters from his own imagination.


End file.
